


Reckoning

by kayelem



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Drama, F/M, Heavy Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2015-04-25
Packaged: 2018-03-25 17:51:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3819460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayelem/pseuds/kayelem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After years of being apart, Lavellan finds Solas again.<br/>But this is one reunion where no one walks away clean.<br/>This is how they pay for the love they had… with their flesh and their bones.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>ONE SHOT</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reckoning

**Author's Note:**

> Had this idea in my head and it wouldn't leave me alone. I wasn't even supposed to be working on this. What is my life right now. 
> 
> This is gonna hurt.

**Reckoning**

More than anything, he wished it hadn’t come to this. But he knew better, this was the only final destination of the paths they had chosen, the ones they had walked together and separate, that finally brought them here.

He couldn’t feign surprise when he felt the Eluvian come to life behind him - he owed her more than that. He knew that she would find him eventually, it was only a matter of time, but why did it have to be  _now?_  He was  _so close_  to giving back everything the People had lost.

“I wish you had not come here, vhenan,” Solas said as he turned.

His heart ached to see her again, to look into her beloved face and yet, see a stranger. She looked so immeasurably different than form the last time he had laid eyes on her that for a moment, Solas wasn’t certain it was Lavellan at all.

“And yet, here I am,” she replied. “You should have known I would find you eventually… Fen’Harel.”

Solas felt the corner of his mouth twitch upward into a rueful smile as he looked to the ground. “So you know.”

He had spent so long hiding his true identity from her, knowing that he had been the specter her clan had warned her about all her life. Oh, how he had wanted to tell her, to reveal to her the depth of his shame, the burden he carried. But Lavellan, and his love for her, made him weak and he could not bear the idea that she might hate him, might cast him aside. And he had almost told her, oh yes, but like the weak coward that he was, he spared her the knowledge and instead freed her. He freed her because if he succeeded, then his enemies would use her against him, and  _that_  was not something he was willing to endure.

“Yes, ma vhenan, I know.” Solas head jerked up at the endearment, eyes wide in shock. Surely she couldn’t still…? Lavellan smiled, breathed a small laugh and said, “Did you believe I loved you so little that it would make a difference?”

“I…” But for all his eloquence, Solas found that he had no words.

He had never dreamed that Lavellan might still care for him, love him. He had been so sure that she would have cursed his name, cursed him for the weak fool he had been. At the moment, Solas wanted nothing more than to devour the space dividing them, that had divided them for far too long, and take her into his arms because now all the masks and pretenses had been stripped away. They saw each other bare for the first time.

Instead, Solas steeled himself. “Why are you here, Lavellan?”

“I thought it was obvious. I’m here to stop you,” she answered, as though she were commenting on the weather.

Lavellan descended the crumbling stairs, looking around the ruin with a sense of wonder on her face. Even half destroyed by time as it was, the temple was still beautiful, though it had long lost it opulent elegance. Vines crept over the walls that had once shimmered in the sunlight, trees had made their roots through the stone floor, the sun pierced through cracks and holes in the walls and ceilings. Nature had shown this place exactly who was sovereign here, and in return had turned the ruin into something savagely beautiful. Solas found it oddly fitting.

“This was your temple?” She asked.

He nodded, glancing around as he recalled what the temple had once looked like. “Once. Long ago.”

Solas watched Lavellan as she lazily made her way around the room. She looked entirely at ease, though he knew that it was only a guise to lure him into a false sense of security. He knew that in the literal blink of his eye that Lavellan could draw and throw her dagger with such deadly accuracy that he would not have time to draw a barrier around himself. But still, somehow Solas knew that would not be how Lavellan chose to end this.

When Lavellan had finished looking around, she stopped and turned toward him. “Why are you doing this?” she inquired.

“Because the People need this, they have lost so much, been brought so low,” he answered. “They need to reclaim what they were. The elven people were never meant to be what they have become.”

Lavellan shook her head. “What you wish to reclaim no longer exists! You think this is some future that you hope will never happen if you can fix it? You cannot just erase  _ages_  worth of our history and replace it with something that you find more palatable!”

“This is the life you want for your people!?” Solas countered, hotly. “To have no idea of the greatness that was envisioned for them? To be chained and sold like chattel? To wander the lands clinging to ways that make a mockery of what you once were?”

“That is the legacy you left us!” she shouted, angry blotches of color rising to the apple of her cheeks. “ _Your people_  abandoned us! They retreated to their temples in Uthenera instead of leading and teaching! What did you think was going to happen!? For all that you look down on  _my people_  at least I can say that we are trying!”

“Enough!” Solas roared as he raised his hand.

He reached out with his magic for the tether that connected them now, the whispering voices and power of the Vir’Abelasan that had once bound Lavellan to Mythal, and now, bound her to  _his_  will. Solas watched as the magic flared to life along Lavellan’s exposed skin like a tattoo, and then just as quickly, the magic fluttered and vanished.

“Huh. And what did you think would happen, ma vhenan?” she wondered as she shifted her weight to one hip and raised an eyebrow at him.

Solas didn’t understand. The power of the well should have forced her to obey him, even against her will. But as he reached out for it again, Solas found that the connection had somehow been dulled, as if it was just out of his reach.

“What have you done?” he demanded, his lips pulled back into a sneer.

“Me? Nothing. You have yourself to thank for this,” Lavellan answered. “The Well of Sorrows bound me to Mythal’s will, and Mythal’s will alone. When you took her power for your own, it ceased to be leashed to her will. The voices taught and showed me a great many things once they were not forbidden to do so, including how to bind the power of the Vir’Abelasan to my own will.”

Solas felt his mouth go dry. Never did he expect that Lavellan would be able to stand against him in equal power. He had not considered the consequences of stealing Mythal’s power in regards to the Vir’Abelasan, and he had certainly not expected Lavellan to gain mastery over it. But if she  _had_  gained mastery of the power of the well then that meant…

“Got there, did you?”

Lavellan had reclaimed the immortality of her ancestors.

And then Solas asked her the question that he had not thought to consider before because he had been working toward this for so long now that he had not thought of the passing of time. “How long has it been?”

She looked up and away from him. “Now he asks,” Lavellan said to herself. “Long enough, is all I’ll say.”

But for all the time that had passed Lavellan had not changed, had not aged a day. Though, now, if Solas looked close enough he could see the signs of her aging in the shadows that danced behind her eyes. It wasn’t anything that he could describe if asked, the way she had aged, and yet, stayed the same. It was there in the way she carried herself, a certain stillness that cocooned itself around her form, as though he could actually  _see_  time moving forward around her, breaking against her like a boulder in a stream.

Just  _how much_  had changed since he was last outside this temple?

“Then I’ll ask again: why are you here? You have regained something that your people thought lost forever!”

“You think this is a blessing? It is a curse, Solas! I am tired of watching the passing of time while I stay stagnant and still,” Lavellan choked out. “I have seen too much, done too much, and I am  _exhausted_.”

The thought that Lavellan had suffered made him ache, made him wish he was still in a position that he was able to comfort her. He had not considered what she might have lost to the passing of years, the pain that she had endured quietly and on her own.

But, if Lavellan had reclaimed the immortality that should have always been her right… then she wouldn’t need to be alone any longer.

Solas looked down. “And if I were to leave here with you, give this up?”

He could almost hear the smile in her voice when she answered, “You won’t. You’ve worked too hard for too long to give it all up for me, vhenan.”  And what he loathed the most was that she was right. Then she said, “What if I stayed, helped you?”

He felt himself smile then, at his own inquiry turned back on him. “You won’t,” he breathed, and perhaps she hated the truth of it as much as he did.

She shook her head. “No. We cannot change who and what we are. Fate was never going to be kind to us.”

“No,” he agreed.

For a brief moment, Solas found himself cursing fate and time, that they had brought them together only to stand them against one another now. As much as Solas loved Lavellan, there was a distance between them now that was impassable, an unfathomable chasm wedged between them that their love could not bridge. The decisions they had made, the time that had passed… there was too much between them now, too many broken things that they couldn’t fix.

Solas reached for his staff, felt it vibrate in response to his magic as his hand closed around it. He looked back up at her, already armed herself, the sadness that he felt reflected back at him in her eyes. The thought that this would be their end made him feel like there was a vice around his heart, and the mere _idea_  that he might be the one to end her life, to snuff out the light of her unique spirit… it made him feel sick.

But here they were, and they couldn’t go back.

“… I love you,” Lavellan told him quietly, and he could see the tears crowding in her eyes.

“And I love you,” Solas replied in kind. They were the truest words he had ever spoken to her.

And then, with a shout, Lavellan lunged for him, a whirling dervish of death and reckoning.

It was probably the most difficult fight either of them had ever been in, and neither of them held back. Solas drew deep from the well of his mana, tapping into a power he hadn’t in ages, and Lavellan was full of her own surprises, employing all her roguish tricks and stealth. Solas knew though that he had to keep her at a distance, there was only so much damage she could do from far away, but if he let her gain ground and close the distance, Lavellan would gain her advantage.

When she opened a rift that swallowed his next spell, and then snapped it closed with a gesture, Solas halted and stared in a moment of shock. It was the sting along his cheek that shook him back to the battle at hand. Raising his hand, Solas lightly touched the stinging cut at his cheekbone, his fingertips coming away bloody and when he turned, Solas found one of Lavellan’s throwing knives embedded in the wall.

“Pay attention,” she demanded, the amusement lighting her tone, a small smile gracing her features. She looked to the shoulder of her armor, where a small fire had started from the last fireball that had barely missed her, but all Lavellan did was pat at the small flame until it was gone.

Solas wondered exactly what he was supposed to be paying attention to, when Lavellan opened another rift and then  _jumped into it_. He felt panic seize him as he looked around wildly.  _When had she gained his ability?_  And Solas knew that he shouldn’t have been surprised that Lavellan had managed to gain full control of her anchor and the abilities it granted her because after all, isn’t this what it had been crafted for?

Out of the corner of his eye, Solas saw the new rift appear, much closer to him than the other one, but he wasn’t fast enough for Lavellan to come lurching out of it toward him. With nary a thought, Lavellan sealed the two rifts and came bearing down on Solas in all her ruthless efficiency. Now she had gained her advantage, one moment in front of him and the next behind, that it was all Solas could do to defend himself. He felt each biting sting of the blades as they slipped past his meager defenses, felt blood blossoming through the fabric of his robes.

“ENOUGH!” he bellowed, releasing a burst of magic that blew Lavellan up and away from him.

She tumbled, righted herself in the air, opened a rift below her, and was gone. He had it half in mind to follow through the rift that she had opened, but changed his mind, knowing that it would only gain unwanted attention for him to be there. Instead, Solas stood and listened, and waited.

The Veil was thin here, thinner than anywhere else Solas could have found to do his work. He could feel it against his skin, shifting light as silk, the rift that Lavellan had opened catching like a burr on the fabric. All Solas had to do was reach out with his magic, let it brush against the Veil enough that it still shifted effortlessly against the press of magic.

He concentrated, eyes screwed shut waiting to feel the catch, the way the Veil pulled tight against the opening of the rift and –

_There._

Solas spun without thought, thrust with the bladed end of his staff, felt the resistance of flesh and bone. Shock registered on Lavellan’s face as Solas heard her blades clatter to the ground, and her hands wrapped around his staff, pierced through her abdomen. All at once, Solas’s world went black and white and silent, stilling him in his tracks as he realized what he had done. Lavellan raised her head once again, and it looked as though she might smile, but then she made a wet choking sound and blood leaked from the corners of her mouth. The anchor on Lavellan’s hand flared and Solas heard the rifts close.

“No!” Solas cried, catching her as she slumped forward, lowering the two of them to the ground. “No… I hadn’t meant… Forgive me.”

Lavellan shook her head weakly, blinked the tears out of her eyes. “Of course I forgive you, vhenan.”

He felt the stinging in his own eyes, the painful racing of his heart as he wondered how he would live with himself now. He had destroyed the one thing he held closest to his heart and there would be no amount of redemption that would cleanse her blood from his hands. The weight of her forgiveness would be one more burden for him to shoulder, but infinitely heavier to carry. Solas could try to heal her, but Lavellan needed more than magic.

It was not supposed to be this way. He was not meant to be cradling her as her life ebbed slowly away, all the things that he wanted to tell her, share with her, dying in his throat. Instead, he wiped the blood from her mouth, and the tears from her cheeks, pressed his forehead to hers and tried to quell the trembling of his hands.

“You were meant to be my queen,” he told her, the words no louder than a whisper because if he dared raise his voice it would crack.

Solas curled over her, angled her face to his, pressed his mouth lightly to hers. Lavellan responded as eagerly as she was able, wrapping her hand around his wrist, pressing closer to him. It was tender and slow, Solas tried to pour everything he felt for her into that last kiss, hoped she might understand.

He pulled away when he felt another cough working its way up through her chest, and Lavellan turned her head, coughed and blood sprayed out of her mouth. With a wry laugh she said, “And now I fear… you must be the one… to forgive me.”

“What could I possibly have to forgive you for?” he asked. But when Lavellan turned her head back to him, Solas saw that her lips had turned black. Raising his hand, Solas touched his lips, his fingertips coming away the same color as her mouth. “Poison?”

Lavellan nodded. Her eyes were beginning to dilate in and out of focus. “I said I came here to stop you. You would have… expected it… on the blades. But you always did… lower your defenses around me. It won’t be long.”

Solas rose to his feet and turned toward the altar where he had been working. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lavellan turn her head toward him, reach out with the hand nearest him, perhaps to grab his leg, but Solas was already moving. He had to finish the spell, it was so very nearly finished! He had to do this before Lavellan’s poison claimed him.

In the back of his mind there was a whispering thought that… rejoiced in the idea of dying with her.

He got half a dozen steps before the world tilted underneath him and the ground rushed up to meet him. What surprised him was that, while he felt the impact, there was no reverberation of pain through his bones. His thoughts were obscenely sluggish, crawling across his mind at a snail’s pace. It occurred to him that he would never make it back to the altar before the poison claimed him and if he did, that he would be in no state to finish the spell.

Instead, Solas altered his course, sliding his body back around to face where he had left Lavellan. He couldn’t feel his legs anymore and instead dragged himself hand over hand back toward her. His vision was beginning to tunnel, darkening at the edges and still he dragged himself back to her.

When he was near enough, Solas reached out to her extended hand, curling his fingers in hers, desperate for the last amount of warmth that Lavellan could offer him. But she didn’t respond, her hand stayed still beneath his, and raising his head, Solas saw her eyes open and lifeless. Still Solas tightened his hand around hers.

_I will meet you in the Beyond, ma vhenan._


End file.
